The Unwilling Adventurer (The Unwilling #1) (20 page)

He pushed away her hand and scowled at her. "Maybe if you weren't trying to scare me," he hissed.

I wasn't, you're just easily scared, and that's why I wanted to talk to you," Pat replied. Fred raised an eyebrow, and she sighed. "You can't keep relying on your fear to use that staff."

Fred shrugged. "It's worked for me pretty well up to now," he pointed out.

"That's just not something somebody's supposed to rely on. What if you actually found some courage and found you couldn't use it? What then?" Pat asked him. The boy turned his face away; he didn't have an answer. "So I'm just telling you that you need to figure out another way of getting that staff out. If Ned can use his staff surely you can figure out how to use yours."

"I heard that," an old voice muttered. The two youngsters' heads whipped around to the other side of the fire, and Ned's amused eyes stared back. "Not bad advice, but perhaps he should learn to use his staff differently when the danger is over."

Pat scowled at Ned's dupe; the same one she'd pulled on them earlier. "I thought you had more faith in his abilities than that?" Pat scolded him.

"Faith is a powerful thing, but this is no time to try out something new," Ned countered. "Now get to sleep, both of you." He rolled over and soon the air filled with his loud, grunting snores.

The girl rolled her eyes. "How is anybody supposed to sleep over that?" she mumbled as she slipped off Fred.

"Pat?" Fred asked her.

Pat paused. "Yes?"

"I'll try to take your advice about controlling my fear."

She smiled. "You'd better. It's good advice."

CHAPTER 19

 

The day dawned bright and sunny, and the companions set off for the bridge at an early hour. The plains of Salaron stretched out around and before them, and at every breeze the grass waved like a sea of seaweed. Birds flew over them from the bridge to the woods, and small animals scurried about the ground on their way to the trees that were filled with their food. Such tranquility should have eased Fred's mind, but he found himself troubled.

Ned noticed the boy's agitation shortly before they reached the bridge. He came up to Fred and leaned down to him. "You seem troubled. What is it?"

"The animals," Fred replied.

Pat was ahead of them with Fluffy, and she glanced over her shoulder. "What about them? They look like they're just running around to me."

Fred shook his head. "That's just the problem, they're not running around. They're running straight toward the woods. In all my years on the manor I never saw animals act like that unless they were afraid of something."

Ned's lips pursed together and he looked ahead of them. "Then we should be careful at this bridge, for here we are."

They had reached the Salaron Bridge above the Greater Conchero River. The bridge was built from local white rock, carved and smoothed out into flat stones. Those were then laid one on top of the other in four arches rising up from the water, and those arches held up the pathway over which they needed to travel. The walls on either side of the bridge were tall enough to comfortably rest an arm on, and three wagons could have easily fit abreast of one another. The beginning of the bridge started a few feet on land and performed a slight curve over the water and reached the other side. The total length of the structure was fifty yards.

Fred had never seen such a large bridge, and he stepped around the high railing wall and cautiously crouched along the edge where earth met air. He got down on his hands and knees, and glanced over the precipice. The drop was fifty feet, and the dark water showed the depth was well over his head. He pulled back and glanced around the dirt. His eyes fell on a rock, which he grabbed and held over the abyss. He let it slip from his fingers and fall the tall height. It hit the water and made a small splash that rippled over the surface.

Fred frowned; he thought he'd seen something dark move over the darker background of the water. He leaned over and squinted at the spot, but nothing moved. A bad feeling developed in the pit of his stomach, and he looked up at Pat and Ned. The girl stood on the bridge with Ned behind Fred on solid ground. Fluffy stood near him, and the animal's eyes nervously flitted about the area.

"Did anybody see-"

A horrible cry gurgled up from the water. Fred's head snapped back and his eyes widened when the water stretched upward. It pulled higher and higher like a blob of watery taffy, and the gel was so thick there was darkness inside. The water raised fifty feet above the bridge and soaked Pat with its drippings; Fred scuttled backwards on his hands and butt. A dozen small and large tentacles pushed out from the body of water starting at the bottom and all the way to the top. The top of the thing stretched out to one side and flattened at the end, and two dark spots arose from the surface. Those dark spots swiveled from one companion to the other and settled on Ned. They were eyes, and they were angry.

One of the higher tentacles barreled down toward Ned, and he raised his staff. Fire erupted from the tip and when the water tentacle made contact steam erupted. The creature opened a mouth along the flattened extension and screamed; the noise echoed along the high river walls and Fluffy howled. The tentacle Ned fought swerved away, but three others took its place. They came at him from all directions, and he managed to swing his staff above his head to scorch the ends of two. One dipped low and knocked his legs out from under him. He hit the ground hard and didn't move.

"Ned!" Pat screamed out.

She'd hardly moved a foot toward him when the sprinkles of water on her body glowed. Pat raised her arms to cover her face as Fred watched as the water shot straight out from her and connected to one another with thin lines of water. Thin sheets of ice filled in the geometric spaces between the lines, trapping Pat in a prison of thin ice. She lowered her arms and her eyes widened; she pressed her hands against the sides and slammed her shoulder into the walls, but they didn't even quiver. Pat pulled out her sword and sliced the blade across ice; the blade shattered and fell to her feet, leaving her holding only the handle.

Her prison glowed and lifted off the bridge; Pat gasped and knocked against the wall. The bubble rose quickly, and Fred struggled to his feet and ran to her. He jumped up and the tips of his fingers scraped along the ice walls.

"Fred!" Pat screamed through the glass. She flew out of his reach and up to hover beside the creature's head.

Fred hurried over to Ned, who still lay where he'd dropped with his staff at his side. The boy shook his shoulders, hoping he would wake up and show this was a trick. "Ned! Come on, Ned!" Fred pleaded. Ned didn't respond.

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught Fred's attention and he turned to see the creature shuffle away from the bridge. It headed down the river with Pat floating beside it. Fred narrowed his eyes, pursed his lips together and ripped the broken stick from his belt. He rushed over to the edge of the steep river bank and held out the stick; nothing happened. There was no transformation, no bright light. There was only the broken stick. Fred looked down at the stick and couldn't understand why it wouldn't work; it worked every other time he needed it.

The creature paused and half turned to the boy; the thing's eyes widened. Pat looked on as the creature raised a tentacle toward Fred, and she pounded on the walls. Fred's head snapped up at the noise in time to have his face drenched in the small sprinkles of water. He furiously wiped them off, but they sprang out from his body and created the netting as before. The walls encased him and he fell on his butt when he was pulled off the ground. Fluffy yipped and howled a dozen yards down the road, but he couldn't help; the poor thing couldn't swim, but it did follow them along the river bank.

Fred's prison floated up close to Pat and, once it made sure the pair were beside it, the creature lumbered on down the river.

Pat got Fred's attention and nodded at his stick. "Use that to burn away the ice!" she told him.

Fred looked down at the stick and shook his head. "It won't work. Something's wrong."

The girl's eyes widened when she realized the problem, and she pressed up against her wall closest to him. "Listen to me, Fred, you have to be afraid! The staff isn't responding to you because it doesn't think you need it!"

Fred looked around him for inspiration, but he couldn't manage to be afraid. He felt only angry and frustrated that he hadn't done anything to save Pat or himself. His hands tightly clenched the stick and his teeth ground together. He wanted to do something, anything, to get them out of there; whatever would work. Nothing happened; they were still prisoner to this water thing that was leading them to some unknown fate. In anger he lifted one part of the broken stick and jabbed it into the wall.

The pointed end broke through the ice panel and created a small hole its diameter where it stuck out the other side a few inches. Cracks spread through the other ice panels that lay all around the broken one. Fred's mouth dropped open and he glanced over to Pat; she had the same expression on her face. A look of determination spread across his face; now he could do something for her. He stood up and yanked the stick out of the hole. Fresh air sucked into the bubble, but only for a moment; with the stick out of the hole the ice patched itself. Fred would need to hit it at the right spot to shatter the whole thing, though he'd have a new problem; he was forty feet up in the air.

The creature sensed something amiss with its captives and stopped to turn to them. Its mouth twisted back in a scowl when it noticed the patch on Fred's prison, and one of the tentacles reached up toward him. Fred glanced over to Pat, who saw in his eyes a look she didn't like.

"Whatever it is you're thinking, don't do it!"

Fred folded the broken stick in half so both points were side by side. Just as the tentacle wrapped itself around his prison Fred raised the stick above his head and brought it crashing down against the floor. The ice shattered beneath his feet and he fell through the floor. The tentacle barely missed grabbing him, and Fred fell the full height into the water.

Any concussion from the impact was knocked aside by the cold mountain-fed river. The water was clear enough Fred could see thirty feet ahead of him, and he was able to glimpse the base of the creature on the river bed. Something shimmered down there, a large stone, but Fred couldn't worry about that just then; he needed air, and he needed it now. All those years of living near a river came to use when he swam to the surface with the stick still tightly grasped in his hand. His head broke through the surface and he took a gasp of sweet, precious air. Fred couldn't rest for long, as the tentacle that missed him barreled down atop him. His eyes widened and he dove back down into the water with the tentacle close behind. It stabbed through the water and wrapped around one of his legs. Fred kicked and thrashed, but the arm wouldn't loosen. Other tentacles slithered out of the creature and rushed for him

Short on air and running out of options, Fred grabbed the stick in both hands and leaned up toward his capture leg. He stabbed the tentacle and the whole creature shook with the impact. Through the water he heard the vibrations of the creature's cries from above him, and the tentacle released its hold. Fred pushed off away from the tentacle, but the damage was done. His lungs burned and his body ached for air. The other tentacles crowded around him. They whipped and thrashed in anger, and blocked his way to the surface.

Fred glanced upward at the bright surface, and he could just make out the blurry form of Pat in her prison. His only regret was not being able to save her. He clutched tightly onto the stick as he felt his mind slip away, but he stubbornly shook his head. He didn't want things to end this way, not when they'd come so far through so much, and were so close to safety. A glow lit up the dark water, and before he could stop it the glowing stick broke free from his hands. It floated to two feet in front of him, and the two pieces transformed into the single staff. The tentacles hesitated, and some shrank from the light.

Fred reached out and grasped the staff in his hand. The glow spread out around him and encased his body in a diamond of light. Fred gasped; there was air all around him. The creature above him saw his recovery and let out a roar. The tentacles rushed him and collided with the barrier. The smaller ones were deflected, but the larger ones, those at least a foot thick, clung to the bubble. They wrapped themselves around the diamond and blocked off Fred's view of the world. One last glimpse allowed him to see the glowing rock at the base of the creature, and when he turned in that direction so did the diamond. He paused and turned every so slightly; his protection followed his movement.

Fred pressed his hands against the wall toward the glowing rock, and the diamond broke free from the tentacles. His safe haven pushed through the arms of the creature on its path to the rock. The creature shifted, and more tentacles sprang from its body and raced toward him. Fred didn't know why, but he held out the staff in front of him and light erupted from the stone at the top. It shot through a small, temporary hole in the barrier and left a trail of tentacle parts in its wake. Fred passed through the carnage and turned to see them reattach themselves to the body of the monster.

He reached the bottom of the river bed some twenty feet beneath the surface, but now he had a new problem; he couldn't reach the stone without pushing through the creature's body. His barrier pushed against the monster and sprang back. He held the end of the staff toward the transparent creature and a small, focused blast went through a small opening as it had before. Now, however, the creature was desperate to stop the light beam and pulled most of its tentacles back into its body. They delved down through the thing's body and put themselves in Fred's line of fire. The creature screamed out in pain but hurriedly reconstituted its broken water tentacles to block further attempts by Fred.

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